She undressed in the mirror.
Only the reflection watched.
I found her candle,
cold and forgotten.

Her hands moved like smoke
understanding how to be skin again.
Not performance. Not pleasure.
Just unlearning the habit of vanishing.

Her shadow held her shape
longer than I did.
She said: “Stay,
but forget.”

Her child slept, somewhere,
dreaming oceans away.
She etched a name in glass steam,
a word that burned too bright to keep,
then let it melt under hot breath.

There was a song
caught in the ceiling,
something we never played
but always meant to.

I kissed her hair while it was still hair
and not a question
left behind on a pillow.

I opened the door,
it sang some other man’s name.
A line drawn, erased. No message left.
The room forgot its language.
My ghost obeyed
and lifted.

The air's too dry,
my lips chapped,
but no ordinary balm will do.

Why don't you wear it first,
let it melt into your warmth,
then let me steal it back,

until the taste of your lips
becomes my only addiction.

I touch you in a place
most look past,
a place within reach.

It is within this place
I feel most alive.

The space between hearts,
the space between fingers,
interlocked, soft and slow.

No one really pays attention
to the space mid-heartbeat
only the beginning and the end
of palpation.

But here, I taste the air
and come to life.

It’s not heavy.
In fact, I am weightless.

But I feel it
in the hopes that you reciprocate.

No different than the space
between minutes,
simply ticking.

The world is not ours,
but that isn't a reason to be afraid.

When I think about you,
I visit this place,
not afraid to knock on your ribs,
with every intention
to exist closer to your heart

today was like most days,
we lay together in my bed.

skin to skin.
heart to heart.

your head resting on my chest,
our breaths syncing onto one rhythm.

you held me so tight,
with such love and care.

the only difference today,
from all the days before,

was that today,
you wiped my tears as they fell.

and today,
i wasn't your girlfriend.

yet you still looked at me
with the same love in your eyes.

maybe even more.

Love…

I owe you an apology
not for what I did,
but for what your dreams said I did.

Somewhere in your sleep,
I lost my mind, my vows,
and apparently my clothes.

You woke with distance in your eyes,
and I knew:
I’d betrayed you in a world
I never touched.

So let me say this
I’m sorry for the man
your dream invented.

And I promise,
as long as you sleep without nightmares,
I’ll stay faithful…

even in your imagination.

Her
Cutting through, dancing through
with petals rumbling beneath our feet,
we dip and twist, entwined by a whispering thread—
holding tight enough to turn you blue, but never red, my love.

I don’t know where it will strike—
but I know I’ll die with wrinkles around my lips,
comfort in my eyes,
knowing I made the greatest trade—
my life, for you, my light.

To have you hold me—
guide me when sight fades, catch me as my body fails,
your gaze speaking volumes beyond words,
holding me soft and fragile—
so precious no one else could ever recreate this, my dear.

Him
On crumbling petals, I dance with you,
making sure I don’t crumble beneath your weight,
so fragile—
I don’t want to hold you so tight it causes pain,
nor let the world’s hurt reach you, my angel.

Sealed—
my lips cannot speak the depth of your meaning,
so I plead for you to see in my eyes
all the words they cannot say, my flame.
If the blade falls after claiming a head,

Let it be mine—
I will take the strike,
shield you from every wound, my oath.
With a smile,
love burning in my eyes for you,
there’s nothing I wouldn’t do, my heart.

Though my lips may be silent—
for you my legs stand firm to walk beside you,
my arms grow strong to hold you close,
my eyes sharpen to find you if you stray, my light.

My heart burns—
a calm fire fueled by love,
the most painful moments made beautiful by you, my salvation.
You are my heaven on earth,
the cure to every pain,

The beat within my chest—
and so I beat,
always, for you, my love.

Together—
we guide each other through,
hoping the blade never falls—
not because we fear the end,
but because we want to hold and lead each other,
not out of need,
but out of love.
“Moonlace”

Come into my arms,

leave your body, discover --


the soul of your soul.

I keep pretending that you don’t want me,

Because that would be a reason to stay.

So if I find a reason to leave, I’ll be gone

By golden hour, without a message or note,

Without even any goodbyes.

In the beginning, the universe was simple
hydrogen adrift, uniform, featureless.
No spark. No shape. No meaning.

Then came gravity. the invisible hand that pulled atoms toward each other.
Not out of need, but out of attraction.
It didn’t shout. It didn’t rush.
It simply drew things closer.

And in that closeness? Friction. Heat. Fire.
Stars were born.
Inside those stars: gold, carbon, diamond, uranium, the rare, the radiant, the necessary.
Then came life. Then came us.

Without gravity, the universe would have remained cold. Silent. Pointless.
With it, it sang.

So too with love.

We, too, begin as scattered selves.
Drifting. Guarded. Independent.
Then someone enters our orbit
not violently, but undeniably…
and we feel pulled.

And when love is real - not forceful, but fundamental - it becomes gravity.

It creates heat where there was indifference.
It forges meaning where there was monotony.
It makes the rarest things - trust, sacrifice, ecstasy, forgiveness… possible.

Without love, we remain inert.
With it, we combust into something bigger than ourselves.

Not every force is loud.
Some reshape the cosmos… quietly, persistently - one touch at a time.